


Time Slips & Tides

by chrysalisdreams



Category: Frozen (2013), Lilo & Stitch (2002), Tangled (2010), The Little Mermaid (1989), When Marnie Was There (2014)
Genre: 19th Century, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Gen, Seaside, Telegrams, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisdreams/pseuds/chrysalisdreams
Summary: There is an invisible magic circle in the world, one that Elsa draws around herself to keep Anna out. Or so Anna felt, and so she left to spend the summer by the sea with relatives she had never met. There, she meets a mysterious girl who lives in a mansion on the shore. Her friendship with her reveals secrets that may just give Anna the way to break through Elsa's "magic circle."A recast of When Marnie Was There, leaning slightly more on the novel by Joan G Robinson than the Studio Ghibli anime, but heavily influenced by the wistful mood of the film.(Chapters reordered because I'm adding in Rapunzel's point of view.)





	1. Invisible Magic Circle

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not familiar with _When Marnie Was There_ , whose main character is Anna, then Anna (Frozen) may seem out of character. This Anna is a little bit of a blend of the two Annas. Also keep in mind that the Arendelle sisters are younger than movie canon, and this story takes place very soon after the king and queen are drowned. Think of this Anna as the one standing outside of Elsa's door at the end of "DYWBaS."

“Elsa, I know you’re in there,” Anna began. She leaned her head against the door. She pressed one hand against the solid barrier. “Elsa.” But Elsa wouldn’t open her door. Anna had been trying for as long as she could remember, and Elsa had always kept Anna on the outside of an invisible magic circle, a barrier that hadn’t been broken even by the death of their parents.

Elsa hadn’t cried at the funeral. She had stood next to Anna and yet had seemed as unreachable as the peak of the North Mountain. As cold, too. Other people saw it, too. Since the funeral, since the coronation, Anna had overheard people call her sister the Snow Queen. They whispered it not knowing she heard, of course, but Anna had always been overlooked. After all, she was just a spare, even more superfluous now that the elder princess was queen.

Anna lifted her hand to knock again, then stopped. “Fine,” she said. “If you don’t want to talk to me.” Her mouth had gone dry. She rolled her tongue around to get some spit back. “I’m going, Elsa. I’m leaving this morning.” When there was still no answer, Anna turned away and stomped down the hall. She didn’t slow down until she had made it out the front door and down the steps to the carriage waiting there.

Kai opened the door for her and offered a hand to help her up the step. “You will be missed greatly, Princess Anna,” he said with an expression mournful and sincere.

“Thanks for saying so, Kai,” Anna replied. While he tucked her skirts in so that they wouldn’t be caught by the door, she couldn’t help looking up to her sister’s window. In spite of the July sunshine, the glass was swirled with morning frost.

o

Travel by sea hadn’t been a consideration, not with her parents newly buried. Even if she was the spare, Arendelle wouldn’t put her on a ship so soon after the late king and queen had been drowned at sea. Instead, Anna had her first experience with the new steam powered passenger train.

Anna loved the train for the first day, but by the time she reached her destination, she was going crazy from being enclosed in a small space, having to sit in one seat most of the day, and having nothing to do but look out the train window. When she stepped off at the train station in the seaside village, Diadema, she was happy to see the locomotive continue on without her.

She looked around for the older relatives with who were supposed to meet her. Porters were loading her steamer cases into a very ordinary-looking wagon. Anna hadn’t planned to bring so much, but she hadn’t been able to decide on what to bring. She didn’t know anything about the sea town, or the people with whom she would be staying. She was just glad to be away from Arendelle castle, where everything reminded her that she was an orphan.

A man and a woman stood expectantly at the wagon. Anna took a deep breath, then walked up to them.

“You must be Anna!” The lady, whose hair was even redder than Anna’s, gave her an unexpected hug. “How old are you, now?”

“I just turned fifteen,” Anna said.

The man took Anna’s handbag. He looked like an old sailor, but still handsome for his age and all. His hair was still mostly black, with just a little silver at his temples.

“I’m Ariel. This is Eric. We’re so glad you can stay with us for the summer!” She put an arm over Anna’s shoulder to guide her toward the overloaded wagon. “How is your sister?”

“The queen sends her regards,” Anna replied. “She is well.”

“The queen?” asked Eric.

“She means Elsa,” Ariel said.

They all squeezed into the wagon. Ariel must have hated being silent as much as Anna did, because she chatted the whole way to the house, asking Anna questions about what she liked to do, what she like to eat, and so on. Eric chipped in a question or two himself. They were both open and friendly. Anna wished she had known how to answer all their questions.

From the winding lane, she could see glimpses of sparkling water. It looked warmer than the fjord. The grass covered hills were lush and green. In the distance, at the top of one, she saw a structure that looked broken with age and time.

“What is that that tower?” she asked.

“That’s from a long time ago. Stories say a witch made it, and it’s haunted, so you’d better stay away.”

“Haunted!” exclaimed Anna.

Ariel poked Eric on the shoulder. “You stop that.” She smiled at Anna. “He’s teasing you. It’s an old silo that used to hold grain. It’s empty now.”

Eric added, “Local children have been using it for years as a dare. It is dangerous, however. For some reason, it hasn’t been torn down. The queen of Corona won’t allow it.”

At the house, Eric unloaded the luggage himself, carrying the heavy cases upstairs one at a time. Ariel took Anna up and showed her the room where Anna would be sleeping.

“My daughter’s room,” Ariel confided, explaining the knick-knacks, awards, and other whimsical decorations in the room. “She’s all grown up, living under the sea now. It seemed like a shame to put it all in storage, so I left it as it was.”

Anna was sure that the lady had said “under” the sea rather than “across.” She had an enthusiastic way of speaking, and she seemed a little odd; it must have been a slip of the tongue. Of course she meant overseas. How could anyone live under the sea?

“She’s teaching something called yoga, these days. It’s a kind of stretching exercise from India. Have you heard of it?”

“No,” answered Anna with wonder. The house smelled… not like home. Different. She opened one of her smaller suitcases to look for her sketch journal.

A stack of small cards with stamps and a package wrapped in brown paper tumbled out of the upside-down suitcase.

“Telegram forms!” Ariel helped pick them up off the floor. “With prepaid stamps. That was good planning of you. You can take a message to the telegram office to let your sister know that you are settled in. It’s just a short distance up the lane.” She looked around the room with a satisfied expression. “Well. I’m going to start our dinner. You look hungry.” She made her way out, then from the stairwell called back up, “I hope you don’t mind vegetarian cooking!”

Elsa had packed the telegram cards. Or maybe Kai had done it. No, Anna was sure it had been Elsa. When she opened the package in brown paper, she found that it contained squares of chocolate molded with Elsa’s profile, leftovers from Coronation Day.

~ ~ ~

ARRIVED THANKS FOR CHOCOLATE -(STOP)- COUSINS NICE -(STOP)- IT SMELLS HERE LV ANNA

“The stamp is enough for a longer message,” the telegraph clerk told Anna after glancing over the card. “Is there more you would like to add?”

Anna thought. Just coming up with that much for the message had been hard. She didn’t know what to say to Elsa. “You can spell out ‘Love,’” she said. The clerk remained expectant. “Tons of love?” Anna suggested. That sounded OK. She loved Elsa; she really did. Even though Elsa had shut her out. Even though Elsa had left Anna on her own and never said what Anna had done wrong to deserve it.

Anna rushed out of the telegraph office before she could be asked more questions. She stepped out into the lane in time to see a mother and daughter coming toward where she was. Suddenly shy, instead of saying hello Anna ran down the stairs toward the sea shore.

She found a secluded spot and hid in the cattails. She would have liked to be friends with the pretty girl in the pale blue dress, but she had been with her mother, and Anna didn’t want to explain about her own mother. If only they didn’t have to meet for the first time. If they had already been friends, she wouldn’t have to explain anything.

The cattails weren’t very nice to stand in, so after she felt that she hadn’t been followed, she moved out to sit on a spot of dry sand. She was about to sit down when she realized that the rocks around held small pools of seawater, and the water was alive with motion. Little crabs walked sideways over the rocks and through the water. Barnacles and flower-like animals waved filaments as the waves carried water in and out of the pools.

She explored further down the beach. When she ran out of tidepools, she was at an inward curve of the shoreline. Here, the sand was white, and though the beach was just a strip at the base of a sharp cliff, sandbars made shallow islands in clear water. Soft waves rolled the sea. The water didn’t look too deep. She took off her shoes and waded in.

“It’s so warm,” she said aloud, though there was no one to hear her. She squished the soft sand between her toes.

Across the water, just beyond where the beach ended, a castle-like house stood. The latched gate seemed an unnecessary barrier, because there was no way to reach the step in front of it. The waterline looked too far below, and the sea level looked too shallow, for a boat to reach the step at the gate.

Walking in the mushy sand was difficult. Anna made it halfway to the mysterious house before she realized that the waves, which had been lazy and gentle, were rolling in more earnestly. Holding her shoes and holding her skirt hem out of the water, she wobbled off-balance with every step. The water had risen to halfway up her calves. She turned to head back to the safer beach.

She tried to time her steps with the waves, so that she was stepped only when they weren’t crashing against her legs. Her progress was slow. Salt water was splashing into her face, and her bunched up skirt was still soaked, by the time she made it to higher ground. The sunset colored the water like fire.

Safe on the shore, she turned in a circle to take in the view. The sun was a ball of orange, almost gone below the waves of the horizon. Every wave was molten gold. A light in the windows of the sea house caught Anna’s eye, and she looked to see if she could spot the inhabitants. It felt as if someone watched her.

And then the sun took the last of its flame below the horizon, and Anna realized that the light in the windows had been only reflection. The house almost seemed to disappear in a sudden gloom.

“Doesn’t anyone live there?” she asked herself.

With the sun set, the sea air quickly chilled. Still soaked, Anna made her way back, past the tide pools that were now completely covered by saltwater, past the cattails, and up the grass-covered ridge. She slapped her arms to try to get warm, walking up the lane, her teeth chattering as she chanted, “Cold, cold, cold!”

At the house, Ariel scolded her kindly. “The tide comes in fast,” she explained. “You’d better have a bath before dinner.” She shook her head at Anna’s soggy dress. “I’ll lend you some of Melody’s old clothes for going exploring. I think they’ll fit you. You can save your pretty dresses for the Lantern Festival.”

“Mm-hm. It’s the night after tomorrow.” Ariel bustled Anna toward the bathroom. “Go on. And take your time. We’re not in a rush.”

~ ~ ~

At dinner, Eric asked, “How do you like our seaside town?”

“It’s nice,” Anna said. She was distracted with her meal. It tasted good, but she couldn’t identify anything on the plate. What she thought was slaw of some kind was bright green and crunchy. Ariel said they didn’t eat any kind of meat, especially not fish, so the tender bits must be a mushroom of some kind. She recognized carrots and radishes. They also had a bowl of cloudy soup that was delicious.

“Does the tide go in and out every day like that?” she asked.

“That’s the power of the moon,” said Eric.

“It’s like a completely different world, isn’t it?” Ariel commented. “The sea is a powerful force, but the boundary between this world and that one is hard to cross.”

Eric asked, “Did you get blocked by the tide?”

“I saw a big house by the water,” Anna said.

“You should ask Kristoff to give you a ride in his rowboat. He can get you over the shoals when the tide is in,” Eric suggested.

“Kristoff?”

“He doesn’t speak much,” Ariel said, “but he’ll row you across. He’s a polite boy. Good manners.” Absentmindedly, Ariel twirled her fork into her hair and set it in place like a hair stick.

Anna wondered a little about Ariel’s standard for good manners, but she wasn’t going to say anything out loud. It was a relief, actually. Anna knew she had terrible manners by any standard. Her parents had sent away most of the staff when she was five years old. She had a crash course in etiquette right before Elsa’s coronation, just so that she could stand next to the new queen at the banquet without embarrassing Elsa too much. Anna knew she was awkward and clumsy. She was no good at remembering names or titles. She never stayed clean.

Elsa had probably been happy to get rid of her.

“Are you alright?” Ariel asked. Her voice was soft, concerned.

“My head hurts a little.” As Anna said it, it was true. It felt like a sharp pain in her temple.

“Why don’t you go lie down? Take a rest.” Ariel looked so kind that Anna couldn’t bear it. She shot up from the table.

“Thanks. I think I will.” Anna ran up the stairs to the borrowed room.

She ran out onto the small balcony, desperate for a breath. Her head pounded.

Instead, the view from the balcony took her breath away. From sunset’s gold, the sea had changed to silver. A crescent moon spilled silver moonlight on the waves, and the waves glittered with it. Anna could see the dark shapes of houses against the dark backdrop of hills and, further on, trees.

The cold sea breeze chased her back into the cozy room. She curled up on the soft bed. Soon, she was dreaming again, a half-awake dream. There was white all around her: snow. She was running -- no, leaping. Laughing, she leaped from snow bank to snow bank.

No, it was indoors. The snow was inside the hall of portraits. As she leaped, the snow appeared before her in a poof, from nothing but bare stone floor to a cloud of soft, fresh snow that caught her before she landed.

But then she jumped again, yelling “Faster! Catch me!” and the snow wasn’t there. The snow wasn’t there, and suddenly her head hurt.

Then, cold darkness. It was dark all around, except for the glow of a distant light. No, first, a ride on horseback, carried by her father into a place with darkness and trees. The glowing light came from a cabin made of stone.

Someone was singing.

Then a woman’s voice, saying, “If I take all the hurt away, it will take away her memories, too.” And voices, arguing. Her mother and the other woman were arguing.

Anna woke up because she heard herself talking from her dream. She heard herself saying, aloud, “ _Do the magic._ ”

~ ~ ~

  
  
  



	2. Blue Window Frames

Melody’s play clothes were like boy clothes. They were the wrong size for Anna, but they gave her inspiration. Anna often wore long bloomers under her skirts. She found the plainest pair and put them on with a simple chemise tucked in. Then, remembering how cold the sea became at night, she pulled on a loose shirt and tied it with a sash around her waist.

She spent the day exploring and napping by the shore. Midday, she felt hungry and realized that she hadn’t eaten lunch. She returned to Ariel and Eric’s house, thinking that she would have to sneak something from the kitchen. She found a plate, covered with a linen, on the table, a little trail of pebbles and shells beside it spelling out her name. Underneath the linen, a delicious looking sandwich, with thick slices of ripe tomato, waited for her.

When Anna was leaving to return to the seaside again, Ariel came out of the carriage house carrying a box of lanterns. “Thank you for the sandwich,” Anna called back as she ran down the lane. 

“Anna, wait a minute,” Ariel caught up. “I’ll walk with you.” Anna had no choice. She waited, then took the box from her hostess to help. “The Darling’s have a girl just a little older than you who lives up the lane. These lanterns are for her mother,” Ariel explained.

“Oh,” said Anna.

“Come with me to meet her,” Ariel suggested.

Anna followed Ariel, feeling nervous. Would it be hard to make a friend? Would anyone want to be her friend? What if the girl didn’t want to be her friend? What would they talk about? Anna babbled to herself the whole short journey to the neighbor’s house.

The girl wasn’t home when they arrived.

“Wendy is minding her brothers out somewhere,” her mother told them. “But she would love to meet you. I know! Why don’t you go together to the festival tomorrow night?”

Ariel gave Anna a smile of encouragement. “That sounds great. Doesn’t it?”

“If you stay for tea,” the mother offered, “Wendy might be home soon.”

“Um,” said Anna. “Well…” The sharp pain in her head was coming back. “I was going to…” she gestured toward the outdoors.

“Go on ahead,” Ariel said. “Have fun.”

Anna didn’t wait. She dashed out the door and away. She had been alone so long, wandering through Arendelle castle and entertaining herself, that she couldn’t imagine not being alone. Talking to portraits was not the same as talking to people. She ran and flopped down in the long grass of the hillside, letting the greenery hide her. Her headache made her drowsy. 

She lay on her back and looked up at the sky, watching the clouds pass over, until her mind drifted. She thought she had closed her eyes. Yet, she could see the castle-like mansion as if she looked across the water, and it seemed closer than ever. She could see a person in the window, someone with long, blonde hair.

The girl’s blonde hair was being brushed. The girl sat and a woman stood behind her, applying hard, fast strokes with a bristle brush until the girl’s blonde hair shone like sunlight. A song echoed in Anna’s mind like a distant memory.

A sandpiper cried out, and Anna woke up. It was hours later, nearly dusk. Soon the tide would be up. She had slept too long; she didn’t have enough of the day left. But Anna ran down to the end of the beach anyway, certain that the girl with blonde hair would be there.

The waves over the shoals were still mild. The tide was not yet rolling in. She could still make it across to the mansion, she was sure she could!

She sloshed through the waves. The house seemed asleep, somehow. The windows were dark, and nothing stirred behind them. Still, it called to her. She felt drawn to its mystery. Where had its occupants gone?

Close to the house, a narrow strip of shore connected to steps that almost reached the water. The lower steps were covered in slippery water plants. The plants on the highest steps had been dried out by the sun. The highest step, by the iron gate, had long moss only on the edge. Anna went up the steps, still carrying her shoes. At the gate, she put them back on over her damp feet.

The gate was not locked. She looked around. The house seemed completely quiet. She opened the gate and called up, “Hello?” She went up the steps. At the top was a garden, overgrown and filled with spiderwebs she found by walking through one.

“Ew!” she complained. She wiped her mouth. She brushed the old web from where it clung to one of her braids. It was so old and dusty that the web fell away like a gray string.

Anna crept past an overturned metal chair with rust seeping through the white paint. She looked through the smudged glass of a bay window. The room beyond seemed empty. She picked her way back out of the grass and tried to look through the keyhole of the back door. The doors were made of smaller windows, a screen of beveled glass squares, with curved iron handles instead of door knobs. There was no knocker, so she knocked on a spot above the handles.

“Is anyone here?” The mansion looked empty, but it felt as if someone might appear in a window at any moment. From the corner of her eye, she saw a light turn on, but when she looked directly up the light had gone. Again, the setting sun, flashing on the glass, had played a trick on her. She walked around all the house that she could reach, trying to see through the windows. Dusk turned the sky purple, and soon the only light was from the moon.

Anna heard the sound of waves splashing and realized that she might be in trouble. She ran to the stairs and down to the bottom step. Everything beyond the bottoms step was water. The tide had come in while she had been exploring, of course, and she hadn’t thought about how she was going to get back to the other side. She ran the short distance from one end of the broad platform to the other. The stairs and the strip of shore were deep below dark, cold waves.

At a distance, she saw the glow of a lantern. It came from a person in a rowboat, and her heart bloomed with relief. She waved frantically to get his attention and called out, “Can I get some help? I’m stuck!” He saw her, she was sure of it. But he didn’t start rowing to her rescue.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Don’t you hear me?” When he continued to ignore her, she stamped her foot with frustration. What was he doing, that he couldn’t give her some assistance? “Hey! Hello!” She stared out at him. She could just make out the shape of his beanie and his nose. “Are you Kristopher?” she called across the water. “Eric said you would row me across!”

Those words got his attention. He pulled a fishing line out of the water, shuttered his lantern, and slowly rowed until his boat bobbed at her feet. He crossed his arms and stared at her as if stubbornly refusing to speak. Finally, he grumbled, “Kristoff. And pipe down. You’re scaring away the fish!”

“Well, Kristoff, I need to get home,” Anna retorted.

He pointedly looked from her to the inside of the boat. When she didn’t move, he uncrossed his arms so that he could use both of them to emphatically present the space in the boat, therefore indicating that she could get in. 

“Oh.” Anna caught on. She stepped into the boat. It rocked, and she nearly fell out.

“Sit down!” Kristoff was a mix of surrender and irritation.

“OK, OK!” Anna settled herself onto one of the planks that served as seating. “I’ve never been in a rowboat.” Gaining back confidence, she sat turned sideways and put her feet up on seat, her knees bent.

Kristoff stuck his leg out and swept her feet back down. His grimace of disapproval was all the comment he gave, but it was enough of a scolding for Anna to feel more embarrassed than indignant. She kept herself from saying another word, although it was tough to do it, while Kristoff rowed to the other side of the cove. He rowed past the little beach where she had crossed to the mansion. Before she needed to ask how far they were going, she saw the pier.

He tied up the boat, then got out first to give her a hand up. She needed the help. Even with his help, she stumbled into his arms with an “Oof!”

“Careful,” he said. He disentangled in a rush.

“Thank you for your help,” Anna said. She felt her heart pounding with the excitement of meeting a new person.

Kristoff shrugged. “Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

“What about your fish?”

He looked back at the boat with a woeful expression. “They weren’t biting,” he said.

Anna pointed out the track up the hill. “Here, I know a shortcut,” she said and started toward it.

“You’ve been here two days, and you already know a shortcut.” Kristoff grumbled the words as if they were pulled out with effort.

“Yeah,” Anna answered. She turned back to him again. “How did you know I got here yesterday?”

“I know who you are,” Kristoff answered. He followed her as if confident of the path.

“Really?” 

He only answered with another wordless shrug.

“Because… I’m only here since my sister sent me away.” Anna regretted the confession as soon as the words were out. She glanced back at Kristoff; he was looking ahead to the top of the hill, not at her. “For my health.” Anna continued, “I get headaches. The sea air is supposed to be better for me.”

“Is it working?” he asked.

“The sea air?” 

“Yeah,” Kristoff said. He was impatient with her again. They had reached the top of the hill, and Eric and Ariel’s cottage was in view.

“I think it’s giving me weird dreams,” she said. “Do you know who lives in that castle on the water?” she asked, thinking Kristoff would know.

He put his hands in his pockets. “What were you doing there, if they didn’t invite you?” he asked.

Sorry she had brought it up, Anna went through the little garden gate and closed it behind her, with Kristoff on the other side. “Goodnight,” she said. Real people were harder to talk to than paintings, she thought once again.

O

In Arendelle, Queen Elsa walked through the Hall of Portraits. Soon another would be added, her coronation portrait. She had made a mistake, not commissioning a current one of Anna. It had not occurred to her that a day would go by without her seeing Anna’s face, even if it was only quickly, while they were passing between rooms. Elsa was queen now, but that didn’t change the distance she had to keep from Anna. Only now, Anna had put the distance between them by traveling away to that small village in Corona.

Elsa wanted what was best for Anna. She felt that there was so little she could do for her sister. Some time apart could be the best thing.

Since she was alone, Elsa removed her gloves. She spun out a flurry of snowflakes, then made the flurry bigger until soft mounds of powdery snow appeared with each light gesture of her slim hands. She began walking at a faster pace, tossing out snow hills, until she was running. Surefooted, she ran in a curved path across the hall, building piles of softest snow, until at last, she threw herself into snow pile. On her back, she lay in the magic snow, breathing heavily from her sprint. She raised her arms up to the ceiling and willed ice to form from the ceiling until it became an airy, crystaline chandelier of sparkling ice.

_ If only _ , she thought for the thousandth time,  _ if only I had not slipped that day. _

She remembered how her father and mother had rushed Anna away, leaving Elsa behind with the servants, terrified that Anna would not come back, that they were taking her away to put her in a grave. Then when they had come back, late the next morning with Anna, Anna hadn’t remembered. She hadn’t remembered being struck by Elsa’s magic; she hadn’t remembered Elsa. The king, their father, told her: those memories were gone. All Anna’s memories, of magic, of her sister, went away when her head was healed.

But Anna was just the same in every other way, knocking at Elsa’s room door, curious about the older girl that was her sister. She asked questions through the keyhole.  _ Why don’t you come out? Are you locked in there?  _ She played, by herself, outside Elsa’s door, not realizing that by being there, she was keeping Elsa in. Elsa had to wait until Anna tired out or became distracted, to be able to slip out of her room. Sometimes Elsa would come back to find Anna at her door again, singing little songs and knocking, unaware that Elsa had left. Elsa would watch her then, secretly, and smile to herself at Anna’s antics.

Elsa picked herself up from the snow pile. The dry, crisp snow stuck to her wool dress until she used her magic again to gather it up, everything in the room that she had made with ice and snow, and sent it up the chimney of the fireplace to dissipate outdoors. No need to leave a mess, regardless of how many servants restaffed the castle, now. She was still a young queen and had much to prove.

o

  
  



	3. Rapunzel

Her hair was yanked every time the hairbrush caught in Rapunzel’s thick, blonde hair. She knew her nanny was tangling the bristles on purpose, so that they would pull the roots and sting. Gothel could hurt her this way, and Rapunzel couldn’t complain, not even to her parents.

“Look at this messy hair,” Gothel fussed with a barely supressed note of gloating. “Such a tangle. You are a naughty child, Rapunzel. I see you dawdling all day, daydreaming. What will your parents think, if they saw you with this rat’s nest on your head?” She pushed the brush, hard, against Rapunzel’s head. The stiff bristles poked Rapunzel’s scalp. “When they arrive, you must be on your best behavior or they will stay away even longer this time. Does a young lady play outdoors in dirt? Hmm? Your feet are filthy.”

“No, Mother Gothel,” Rapunzel answered meekly.

“Well, I am certainly getting  _ exhausted _ by all the  _ endless need _ to groom you properly. But we must have you looking as presentable as we are able by this evening.” Gothel paused. The mirror reflected her pose, arm poised with brush in hand, other hand on her tilted hip. “Sing, Rapunzel. Warm up your voice, in case you’re asked to show progress in your music lessons. Maybe you won’t embarrass yourself.”

The words stung as much as the rough hairbrushing. She should have been stronger against both, since they both happened all the time. Singing did make her feel better, as if the song were a barrier, shielding her and keeping her safe. She was quick to follow Gothel’s demand.

“ _ Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine ~” _

The notes poured out of her, full and golden as sunlight. Her voice might not be a wonder, but the song itself was something greater than her singing. Even Gothel felt it, Rapunzel knew. Gothel became less cruel with the hair brushing. She didn’t say another word until Rapunzel’s song ended, then, with a satisfied sigh, she pat Rapunzel’s hair with her fingers before sauntering from Rapunzel’s room.

She left the door open. Rapunzel was not allowed to close it, when her parents were away.

But Gothel would leave her alone, unbothered, for a few hours after Rapunzel sang the song. It was the best she could hope for. As soon as Gothel was gone, Rapunzel leaned out of the open window, hoping to catch sight of where the girl had gone. She had seen her, just for a moment when she had turned her head: standing down on the other side of the shoals, on the small beach there, looking up at Rapunzel’s window.

Rapunzel stepped up onto the window sill. Her feet were as clean as the floors, and she knew the floors were clean because she beat the rugs and swept the floors every day. Gothel, however, always accused Rapunzel of having dirty feet. Gothel would not let her wear shoes, claiming there was no need for Rapunzel to wear them if she stayed indoors as she was told. (Gothel claimed that the soft slippers she, herself, wore served the same purpose, but that her maturity made bare feet improper.) With a wiggle of her toes, one hand tight to the frame, she leaned out over open space as far as she could, and stretched her neck for the farthest view.

“Looking for me, Blondie?” came a voice, soft but full of confidence, from above Rapunzel’s head.

Rapunzel looked up, already smiling with joy. “Flynn!” she greeted. She was careful not to let her voice carry or they would be discovered.

The handsome young man lay belly-down on the roof, chin propped between his hands, in a casual pose. He reached out and mussed Rapunzel’s newly tidied hair. He pushed himself up to his feet with an easy air, uncaring of the drop in front of him. He never did seem to care if he was three stories from the ground.

“Is it clear?” he asked. He gestured toward the room behind her.

Rapunzel self-consciously pat her hair back in place. “You can’t. I have to dress up for tonight. My parents will be here soon!” A wave of happiness filled her at the thought.

“Are you sure that’s not just another excuse to get out of our bet?”

Rapunzel squinted at him. “I made a promise, and I never go back on a promise…” she started.

Flynn laughed and waved a hand at her. “I know, Blondie. You’re going to face that spooky tower with me one of these days. Buy hey! Your mom and dad! That’s great!”

“Isn’t it!” She beamed up at him. “I’ve missed them so much.” Her smile fell. She changed the subject. “How are you faring?”

Swinging down to alight beside her in the window frame, he answered, “Fairly well. A little adventuring here, a little heroing there, the usual. All in a day, for Flynn Rider.” He gave her a winning smile.

She touched a faded bruise on his chin. “Is this from adventuring or heroing?” she asked softly.

“Oh, that’s nothing. Got into a scrap with a couple of mean redheads.” He took his hand in hers. His other hand mirrored a touch on her chin, but she knew there was no mark there. His gaze became warm and serious.

She eased her hand free and stepped down into the room, all in a motion. After a glance at her open bedroom door, she shrugged.

Flynn exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll go,” he surrendered. “And bid you,  _ Adieu. _ ” He gave her a flourished bow before hopping back up to the roof. She peeked out to watch him go. He looked back over a shoulder as he dashed, without making a sound, across the shingles. A wink and a wave, and he turned a corner and was out of sight.

Rapunzel checked her door and the hallway. She tiptoed out into the hallway, to be certain that Gothel wasn’t coming back, then dashed back into her room and made a beeline to her secret hiding spot. She reached into the vase and pulled out her journal. She carried it to her desk, where she kept ink and her brushes. She had a glass pen, a beautiful twist from Murano, Italy, but she always felt more comfortable with her brushes. Truth be told, her handwriting wasn’t what it should be because she neglected practicing writing.

She carried her inkpot and journal to a spot on the floor where she would be able to hear Gothel coming before Gothel could see her. Opening the bound book, she dipped her brush into ink. She recorded her meeting with Flynn. She vented her feelings about Gothel, illustrating her nanny’s cruelty. After sketching a portrait of herself, warmly embraced by her parents, she blotted the pages and hid her journal away again.

-o-

The manor was full of servants. It was full of noise, and light. Rapunzel’s parents had arrived, a household worth of maids, butlers, cooks, footmen, and grooms with them. Frederick’s bellowing jokes echoed in the rooms. The musical scale of Arianna’s laughter rang through the halls.

Rapunzel wore shoes. She put on new dresses. Her hair was neatly braided. She was floaty with joy, and tried not to think about how her spirits would fall when they left again in a few day’s time. She didn’t ask, anymore, why they left her behind. She didn’t ask if she could leave with them.

On the first night, she stayed up nearly all night. Her parents allowed it, and Gothel couldn’t do much more than shoot Rapunzel warning looks. Arianna dressed her daughter up in fanciful gowns brought from exotic lands as gifts to Corona. She had the ladies’s maids powder and paint Rapunzel’s face in the new fashion. Frederick let Rapunzel in on a game of Tarocca, played with picture cards that Rapunzel thought would be fun to copy in her own style.  When her parents came to the manor, it was like a carnival, and it was great fun.

They brought her gifts. Some surprises were saved for her birthday celebration, but a new dress, a little row boat, and a dozen others were hers to play with right away. The pretty boat had a tiny anchor, iron but with a coating of silver paint that was still brightly new, and small oars perfectly sized for an adolesecent girl.

Because she didn’t have to clean or cook the next day, she spent it looking for the girl she had seen looking at her window. She didn’t see her all day. On the first tide, Rapunzel took her new boat across the shoals. She dropped anchor and sat in the boat, watching for the girl. 

Gothel tutted at her for being out-of-doors without a hat or shawl. In the presence of Rapunzel’s parents, Gothel was a doting nanny. She didn’t scold. She certainly didn’t tear Rapunzel down, word after word, listing Rapunzel’s many shortcomings. 

With all the new people in residence, Flynn stayed away. Her parents were caught up in preparing a party. More people arrived: musicians, entertainers, and early guests. In spite of the activity around her, Rapunzel felt more alone than ever.

The night of her birthday celebration, Rapunzel had an idea. She sneaked out of the party. When the evening tide began to roll in, while the water was still shallow, she pushed and pulled her rowboat across to the beach. She tied the boat up on the beach across from her window, where she could see it but it wouldn’t be discovered unless someone came around to that curve of sand. Then she ran back along the retreating shore, holding her hooped skirt out of the water, before she could become stranded. The lace hem of her new dress became soaked, but she had at least had the forethought to forgoe stockings and the fashionable new shoes with their crystal studded buckles.

She changed into her nightgown, which was just as well, because Gothel soon spotted her and sent her off to bed.

She sat in the window of her bedroom. The night’s breeze caught the curtains, making them billow like sails. Rapunzel watched her little boat, bobbing on the waves, safely tied up to a hedge. She had a good feeling that something was about to happen.

-o-

  
  
  



	4. Lantern Light

Anna loved the hot days in Diadema Village until the real heat rolled in on her third day in Corona. After Kristoff saw her home, she felt overheated all the rest of the night. Between her restless dreams and the indoor stuffiness, she spent more hours tossing and turning in her bed than sleeping. She tried sleeping with the balcony doors open, but hardly any breeze moved the heavy, humid air.

She dozed off for an hour when the temperature cooled just before sunrise. In her dreams, she saw the blonde girl again, and the girl’s hair gleamed gold in the light of the fireplace as if it were firelight itself. Anna’s father and mother were there, too, but Elsa was not. Anna woke up with the wetness of tears on her pillow and an aching head.

The the sun rose, filling the house with renewed heat. Anna got up, dressed in her short pants and loose shirt, and stumbled downstairs. Breakfast was griddle cakes and fruit from garden. Her hosts drank hot coffee and seemed far, far too chipper.

Ariel served breakfast on a table outside on the shady porch. “Whoo, the real summer weather is here,” she commented to Anna. “I love when the sun comes out.”

“I don’t know if I love the sun as much as I thought I did,” Anna said. 

“Oh, Honey. You couldn’t sleep?”

“It’s OK. I’ll be...” Anna yawned, “fine.”

Smiling, Eric said, “Did you see the telegram that came for you yesterday? No, stay. I’ll get it for you.” He went inside and came back out with a slip of paper.

Anna took it when he handed it to her.

GLAD YOU ARE GOOD -(STOP)- WHAT DO YOU MEAN SMELL -(STOP)- WRITE BACK SOON

She groaned. She hoped they hadn’t read the message and wondered about the meaning. Ariel handed a large mug of chilled black tea into Anna’s hands, forcing Anna to set the telegram down beside her plate.

“That will help your head,” Ariel said of the tea. “Cool you down.”

Anna touched her head, the spot where she had a streak of white hair among her auburn. Thinking about something cold had sent a sharp pain right to that spot. She hadn’t even sipped the cold tea yet, and it didn’t even have ice in it. She wasn’t sure they ever had ice in Corona. The mountains that had snowy peaks were very, very far away, as far away as Arendelle, like a half-forgotten dream.

She would have to answer Elsa’s telegram. Could she tell her about about the mystery of the beach house, or about the sea grass and purple statice flowers that grew along the shore, or anything of this place? Would Elsa even care?

Ariel told her, “You are going to want to stay up late tonight, because the lanterns are beautiful and there is a fair, too. The village square will be full of musicians and dancing all day, but don’t tire yourself out. You don’t want to miss the lights.”

“I thought I would go down to the beach again today,” Anna said.

“Do you have a nice dress for tonight? If you don’t, and if you don’t want to go shopping, Wendy might have one to fit you. She’s about your size, I think.”

Anna remembered that she was supposed to go to the festival with Wendy Darling, a girl she still hadn’t met, so that they would become friends. It was that word, “become,” that stood between Anna and everyone else like a closed door. She didn’t know how to “become.” She was only just who she was. She didn’t know how to make those doors open.

o

She took a telegram form with her reply to the telegraph office when the sun was cresting its zenith, only to find it closed because of the festival holiday. That was fine by her, except for the part where she had to walk all the way back to the cottage before anything else, so that she wouldn’t lose the telegram form. It was another short response, nothing much more than to say she had been to the beach. She would add something about the lantern festival when she sent it in the morning.

Wendy was waiting for her when she returned to Eric and Ariel’s cottage. Worse yet, there was another girl with her, and they were wearing nearly matching blue dresses, though the other girl had a crisp, white pinafore over hers.

“Are you Anna? I’m Wendy. This is Alice. Mother said we should introduce ourselves,” she said. 

“Good morning,” Alice added as her own greeting. “How do you do?”

Anna avoided eye contact. “Hi,” she answered.

Alice said, “We should all go together to the village square. It’s marvelous. Won’t you come with us, Anna?”

“You can come the way you are.” Wendy took charge. “There will be time before the evening to put on something nice.” 

“She looks like one of your brothers,” Alice said to Wendy. Anna bristled at being spoken of as if she wasn’t present. She was on the outside of the circle again. “When they are playing pirates.”

Wendy studied Anna. “It’s true, you do look like you’re up to no good,” she said to Anna. “But Alice, maybe she’s more of a wild forest girl than a pirate. All she needs is a bit of war paint.”

Embarrassed, Anna stalked past them and into the cottage. She stormed upstairs. Once in her room, she thought she would stay there. She put down the telegram and flopped down on her bed. Through the window, she could hear Wendy and Alice calling up to her, calling her name, telling her to come out. After a while, they stopped. When she felt it was safe to look, Anna crept to the window. The girls were gone. 

After all that, she did go to the village square. She first went down to the little beach across from the mysterious house, but the house showed no life in its dark windows. The beach felt lonely and empty. Anna ran away from it.

Where the shops and stalls were in the village, so were people. Enough people swirled around her that Anna didn’t feel put on the spot to interact with any of them directly. Anonymous in the crowds that were gathering more thickly as the day wore on, she browsed through all the trinkets and crafts and food. She found an abalone shell pendant that made her think of Elsa, then put it down and walked away. She went back for it and bought it. Elsa would not have put money in with Anna’s things if she didn’t want her to spend it, the same way Elsa enclosed the telegram stamps, expecting Anna to send back news. Of course Elsa would expect her to buy her a souvenir.

The pendant shimmered with blue and green swirls, reminding Anna of the Northern Lights. She felt a little disappointed that it had to be bound up in paper and string and put in a pocket to keep it safe. She thought of buying something for herself, that she could wear and look at, but decided against it.

When the sky began to take on the tints of sunset, the villagers began congregating in groups, seeking good places to launch their lanterns once it became dark. Anna was pulled along in the currents of the crowd. She wondered if she could slip away to her little beach, where she might not feel as alone, being alone, as she would among the crowds with no-one. Her beach was on the other side of the hill and around the curve of the shoreline, though, and likely the wrong angle to see the lanterns when they rose up.

Not seeing them until they collided, Anna ran into Wendy and Alice. She nearly knocked the tart Alice was eating right out of her hand. Wendy caught the drink in Alice’s other hand before it could spill on them all. The two girls were with an intimidating group of others, mostly boys, none of them older than Anna. Had they all been adults, Anna would not have found them nearly as overwhelming. Kristoff was not among them.

“Why, there you are!” Wendy admonished. “Why did you go and run off without a word? We waited and waited, but you never came back out. Didn’t we, Alice?”

“You missed tea and all manner of wonderful things,” Alice scolded Anna.

“But we’re quite prepared to forgive all of it,” said Wendy as she hooked her arm through Anna’s. “Come along, now,” she said, pulling Anna along by their linked arms.

“Let go!” Anna wriggled her arm free.

“Oh dear,” said Wendy, surprised at Anna’s ire.

“That’s awfully bad manners,” said Alice around a bite of her crumbly tart. A drop of fruit jam dripped onto her pinafore.

Anna looked from one girl to the other. She felt too many eyes on her, and it made her nervous. “You… bossy…” she growled at Wendy. “And you…” she looked at Alice and fixed on the jam stain, “fat pig!” 

“Well!” exclaimed Alice, rapidly blinking.

Wendy recovered from shock first. She put on a pleasant face, but it was clearly forced. “Anna, I’m sure you didn’t mean it. You’re just the way you are, after all.” She put out a hand, as if for Anna to take it in friendship. “Let’s put this aside, now that it’s done.”

Anna pushed past the girls and dashed through the first opening in the crowd. It was too difficult to get anywhere close to the square, so she made her way out from the crowds to where there were fewer people, and then ran down the road away from everyone. At the top of the grassy hill that stood above the beach, she cut down the slope, steep and dangerous in the twilight, slipping and stumbling until she spilled out at the little beach where she hoped no one would find her.

“ _ Just the way you are _ .” She was, wasn’t she? Stuck, the unneeded spare, Elsa’s  _ obligation.  _ Anna was unwanted by the one person who could understand how it felt to know she would never see her mother and father again. Blocked and locked out from having anyone who could  _ understand. _

She picked up a rock and threw it with all her might at the sea. That felt good to do, so she searched around for another, and another, walking along the shore pitching stones at the waves and the setting sun and the world. The mansion across the shoals seemed to watch her, without judgement. The glow of lights in the windows grew as the sun slid under the horizon.

She sat on the sand until the crescent moon came out and the stars twinkled. The breeze off the water prickled her skin. She didn’t want to go back to the cottage, so she stood up and walked around, rubbing her arms warm.

A boat bobbed at the shore, unexpectedly there where more woody vegetation marked the end of the sand. Its rope was loosely hitched to a branch of a leafy bush, the small rowboat rocking on the waves as if waiting for Anna to get in. Anna looked around. She could hear the sounds of festivities coming from beyond the crest of the hill above her, but she didn’t see anyone who might have left the boat. She looked out over the water, and she felt as if the mansion beckoned her. Compelled for a reason she didn’t examine, Anna stepped into the boat. She released the rope from the shrub. 

She had barely put the oars into the water to try rowing when the boat seemed to catch on a current. She was suddenly being pulled out to sea. The current took her across the shoals, where the evening tide had made the water deep, and she didn’t dare jump out. The corner of land, marked by the mansion atop it, that was the last piece of shore before the wide open sea was quickly approaching. If Anna went past it, she would be lost on the sea in the darkness of night.

“Throw me the rope!” a girl’s voice yelled out to her. There was a girl at the bottom of the steps of the mansion, all in white like an apparition, on the stone landing where Anna had been stranded when the tide had come in. The blonde girl held her arms out to Anna, motioning for the little row boat’s rope. 

Anna gathered up the slack end and heaved it toward the blonde girl. She caught it and pulled it tightly around a hitching point. The boat swung in, pulled out of the riptide current, and slammed into the landing, nearly throwing Anna out. After quickly securing the rowboat to the iron ring in the wall, the girl reached out to help Anna step out.

The girl said, laughing, “I thought you would row better!” Anna didn’t at all feel that the girl was laughing at her.

Her laughter was catching. “I thought I would, too!” Anna answered. “I’ve never rowed before.”

The girl was Anna’s age, but unlike with Wendy and Alice, Anna felt at ease right away. The girl’s smile put dimples in her cheeks and light in her green eyes. She was wearing her hair loose, and it was so long that it brushed the floor by her bare feet. Her gown wasn’t white after all, but faded purple, and made out of flimsy, shiny fabric.

“We need to be quiet,” the girl said when they were close. She glanced up the stairs that led away from the landing. “Don’t let anyone hear.” She led Anna up, into a garden lighted only by the light spilling out of the mansion’s windows and a pair of glass paned doors. She guided Anna around to a spot on the grass shaded by a trellis thick with rose vine. She turned her eyes back to Anna. “I’m not allowed to play with the village children,” she said in a low voice, not quite a whisper. “Let’s sit here, where  _ she _ won’t see us if she looks out.”

Anna followed her look to a brightly lighted window on the second floor. The sound of doors opening, spilling out party noise and music, made the blonde girl duck down further into the shadow, with a hand on Anna’s arm urging her to duck down, too. She held Anna’s arm in a tight grip.

A pleasant woman’s voice said, “How beautiful it is tonight, Fredric. The stars are aglow like floating candle flames.”

“Close the door, Arianna,” a man’s deep voice said. “Come and dance!”

The music stopped and restarted with another tune, jaunty and playful. The woman said, “Yes, in a minute. By the way, where’s our child? Has Gothel put her in bed already?”

The girl squeezed close to Anna, and they both held their breath. Anna hadn’t been so close to anyone since the last time she hugged her mother. Above them, the man said, “I should hope not, but maybe she’s tired out. Birthday celebrations all day.” The last part of his words were muffled by the door being closed.

“Are those your parents? Were they talking about you?” Anna asked.

The girl nodded, a wistful smile on her face.

“Then why aren’t you at the party?” Anna asked.

“I was, earlier,” the girl said. “My governess sent me to bed.”

Thinking about the rowboat and the girl being there just when she was needed, Anna asked, “Was it your boat?”

“Yes,” the girl whispered, “of course. I left it for you.”

“How did you know I would see it?” Anna asked. “Have you seen me?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“But the house looked empty. I thought no one was home.”

“I’ve been here ages,” the girl said, leaning in to whisper in Anna’s ear. “I’ll row you back to shore. Let’s go.”

They crept down the stairs and stepped into the boat. The girl first released the rope from the iron ring holding it.

“Have you been watching me?” Anna asked.

The girl nodded. She held a finger to her lips. “Voices carry over the water,” she murmured. “You’re my secret,” she said. “I haven’t told anyone about you, and I’m not going to. Here, I’ll show you how to row.” She sat behind Anna. Anna took the oars in her hands, and the girl put her hands over Anna’s, and together, they rowed the little boat out over the water. Then the girl stopped the oars, when they were halfway across. “Look,” she said, pointing.

Distantly, at a point that would have hidden by the terrain of the forest if they had been on land -- unless it could be seen from the top of the old tower, perhaps -- a stream of lights, like a river of gold, flowed up into the sky. Anna turned in the boat until she found a closer release of glowing lanterns coming from the center of Diadema Village. She returned her attention to the distant lights. “Those must be from the capitol,” she surmised. “From Corona Castle.”

For a while longer, they watched the floating lanterns, first the ones far away, then the ones nearer when they began to drift overhead, distributed by the night breezes in scattered directions over the water. They dipped and dropped, extinguishing their flames in the water. The girl was able to catch one and send it lofting upward again. It sailed away until they couldn’t see it anymore, or discern it from the stars.

They rowed the rest of the way to the shore, and Anna got out, leaving the girl standing in the boat. Her pale dress and light hair made her look like a ghost in dim light of stars, crescent moon, and faint lantern light. But it was the girl who said, “You look like a ghost, standing there so still, Anna.” After a long pause, she asked, “You  _ are _ real, aren’t you?”

Anna laughed. The girl laughed, too, but said, “Come here.” When Anna did, the girl kissed her quickly on the cheek. “There,” she said, laughing shyly, “now I know you’re real.” She sat down in the boat and took the oars. “Give me a push off before you turn into a ghost again,” she joked.

Anna ran up the shortcut to the cottage, not daring to look back in case the girl really was a dream, afraid that she wouldn’t see here rowing the little boat across the water, nor the lighted windows in the mansion from the party going on there. That it would all be from her imagination. There was something almost magical about the girl with the golden hair.

She realized that she didn’t even know the girl’s name, and her pace slowed. Why hadn’t she even asked it, she wondered. She couldn’t remember if there had been an opportunity to ask. 

o 

  
  


  
  



	5. The Picnic

By morning, the girl seemed all the more like a dream to Anna. She _had_ dreamed about her, after all. But it was the day itself that felt like a dream. She went into the village early to send her telegram to Elsa, keeping to herself and hoping not to run into Wendy, Alice, or any of the others. Her telegram was no better than the previous ones.

SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY -(STOP)-THE POST OFFICE WAS CLOSED YESTERDAY -(STOP)- FESTIVAL DAY -(STOP)- HOPE YOU ARE WELL LOVE ANNA 

She wanted to tell Elsa about the girl in the house with the blue window frames, and about sneaking about at night, and even about grumpy Kristoff. Somewhere along the years, though, she had lost the ability to talk to a closed door, which is how the telegram exchanges felt, even with Elsa’s answering telegrams.

To Anna’s surprise, however, when she stepped into the telegram office, the operator handed her a waiting telegram for her, from Elsa. 

OFFICIAL VISIT TO CORONA CAPITOL IN A FEW DAYS -(STOP)- WILL ARRIVE IN DIADEMA ON THURSDAY -(STOP)- MISS YOU -(STOP)- WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING -(STOP)- LOVE ELSA

Thursday! Elsa was coming to her. Anna vacillated between excitement and apprehension. What did Elsa need to talk to her about? The telegram seemed to imply that they would both travel to the capitol city… and then what? Would Anna go home, back to Arendelle, with nothing changed? Or would it seem different, after being away?

Anna went back to her beach, where she then walked up and down the sandy strip wondering and imagining what Elsa’s message meant. Why had she been so mysterious? Couldn’t she have given a hint about what she wanted to talk about.

Anna wandered along the beach, as far as to where she had found the little row boat the day before. The shrubs and small trees in the wooded area there grew thicker and taller further in, like an arm forest stretched down to reach the seashore. She looked toward the mansion across the sholes. The tide was out, and the water flowed through the sand banks out of deep puddles, drawn out toward the sea. Anna took off her shoes. She planned to cross over to the house and find out if the blonde girl was real.

When she looked up, there the girl was, picking her way through the spindly trees toward Anna. Her purple, satin dress seemed inappropriate for traipsing through shrubbery. She carried a woven basket on her arm. A cloth covered its contents.

“Anna!” the girl called over to her, a big smile bright on her face. She picked up her pace through the greenery, with no regard for how the twigs caught at the shiny fabric of her dress. Soon she stepped out onto the sand. Her feet were bare. “I brought us a picnic!”

“I was just getting hungry,” Anna replied, returning the girl’s smile with a radiance of her own.

“I brought plenty,” the blonde girl said.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Silly. I saw you from my window. You were pacing up and down the beach all morning. Anyway, I wanted to see you. Mother and Father are having another party tonight, and Flynn will be coming, so I won’t be able to sneak away.”

“And Flynn is…?” Anna asked.

The girl’s face took on a look part hopeful and part secretive. “A friend,” she said. 

Anna decided that she needed to ask, before she forgot again. “I don’t know you’re name, you know,” she started. “You already know mine.”

“Your name is like my mother’s. That’s how I knew it was you,” the girl said. “The new girl in the village. Anna.” The girl drew a squiggle in the sand with the tip of her big toe. “It’s Rapunzel. Didn’t you know?” She watched the design form in the sand. “You can call me Blondie, the way Flynn does,” she said, “if you want to.”

Rapunzel turned suddenly and headed back into the woods. “We can make our picnic over here,” she said.

Anna carried her shoes, not to delay by putting them back on, and followed Rapunzel through the trees until the shrubs and clusters of stattice gave way to a small clearing. The row boat was tied to a large driftwood tree trunk. Tree roots, and the curve in the shoreline, had caught more shells, driftwood, seaweed, and other bits of flotsam in its crook than collected along the regular beach. Anna poked at a long plank, weathered by seawater. 

She wandered over to the boat, where Rapunzel had spread out an embroidered cloth over a board seat and was setting out china saucers and crystal cups. Anna climbed into the boat. It rocked slightly on the sand, but Rapunzel didn’t scold. Sitting opposite Rapunzel, Anna waited while the blonde girl poured from a jug, into the cut crystal tea cups. “It’s juice,” she said. “We have all the best things in the pantry when Mother and Father are here.” She unwrapped a cupcake, frosting only slightly squished, and cut it in half to share.

Anna wanted to ask a thousand questions. But she also didn’t want to. She didn’t want the spell of mystery to be broken.

As if reading her mind, Rapunzel said, “I don’t want to get to know each other too fast.”

Anna thought while she drank from the dainty cup. From the top, the pattern cut in the crystal looked like a sunburst radiating up through the purple fruit juice. “What if we ask each other just one question? But you have to answer it, no matter what,” she added, recalling the silence that had always been on the other side of Elsa’s door.

“Like a game! That sounds like fun,” Rapunzel agreed. “Your question about my name won’t count.”

“OK. But then you go first,” Anna said.

“No, you’re my guest so you go first,” Rapunzel insisted gleefully.

Anna clasped her hands together. She was put on the spot. She thought about Rapunzel, about hiding in the garden from the people in her house, and how it had seemed that a party had been going on. “Is it a party every night at your house?” she asked.

Rapunzel looked wistful. “When my father and mother are here, we always have a lot of important guests that visit. My mother likes to have fashionable parties. Everyone speaks French and drinks wine and dances all night. There’s music all day long, except in the morning when my parents are sleeping. Then I have to be as quiet as when they’re not here at all…” She trailed off, her smile fading away.

Anna recognized loneliness. She knew it all too well, herself. She wondered why Rapunzel had to be quiet when she was alone in her mansion, because Anna herself wouldn’t have been able to stand the silence of Arendelle castle if she had not been free to make noise. She opened her mouth to ask, but then remembered the limit on questions.

“But Flynn said he would come tonight, and maybe tomorrow, too, after everyone has gone,” Rapunzel said, brightening.

Now Anna was frustrated at herself for making a game of questions. She wanted to ask about Flynn! She would have to listen closely in case Rapunzel let some clue drop, later.

“Now, you,” Rapunzel said. “Tell me about how you’re here in the village. Are you visiting or staying?”

“Visiting,” Anna said. “I think. I mean, of course, I’m here because of my headaches.”

“Oh?” Rapunzel showed concern. Her hand lifted from her lap, as if she would reach out to Anna, but then she pulled it back.

“I’m staying with some relatives. They’re strange, but nice, I guess. I mean, I know. They’re nice.” She thought about Ariel and Eric. They couldn’t be closely related to her, she was sure. They _were_ nice, kind to Anna for no apparent reason. She wondered if they were under some obligation to Queen Elsa, too. Kai had arranged this trip away for Anna. She wished she had paid more attention to the names of her kingdom’s allies.

Her mind had drifted, thinking about her hosts and her home, and when she looked up, Rapunzel was not there. She had gone, suddenly, without a noise or goodbye, and Anna hadn’t noticed! Shooting to her feet, Anna hopped out of the boat and searched the clearing. “Rapunzel?” she called out to the trees nearby. Thinking that the girl might have dashed off for a call of nature, Anna smiled to herself and felt a little easier. However, when there was no reply, and searching the shrubbery close by revealed no sign of Rapunzel, Anna was confused. She touched the streak of white hair at her temple and wondered. Her eyes landed on the picnic dishes, and she breathed easier -- she hadn’t imagined it all. Rapunzel was here somewhere. Where had she gone?

Anna ran to the water’s edge and looked into the softly sloshing waves. “Rapunzel!” she called out again. “Where did you go?”

“Anna!” Rapunzel came running out of the trees. She was frantic. “Anna! Where were you? Why did you run off?”

Anna traced steps back to the boat, meeting up with Rapunzel. Rapunzel reached out, as if to hug her, but stopped herself and pulled back in, hands clasping together. Anna wanted the hug so she followed in and wrapped her arms around Rapunzel. She squeezed tightly. “I didn’t go anywhere,” Anna said. “I was right here!”

“I searched for you!” Rapunzel insisted.

“You must have been searching in the woods when I was doing the same,” Anna said to explain how they could both have thought the other one had left. “I missed you.” She was slow to let go of Rapunzel. Since Rapunzel still held close, they stayed in the embrace. No one had hugged her so closely in forever, Anna thought. It felt warm and safe.

“I missed you, too,” Rapunzel said. “I thought I had dreamed you up.” She sniffed and stepped back, averting her eyes as she wiped tears away. Her shoulders slumped in a dejected posture. “It’s terrible when it’s just me and my nanny. I’m not allowed to leave the house, and she tells me stories that scare me. I thought I had dreamed up a friend so I wouldn’t be alone when Mother and Father leave again!”

Anna became excited. “You don’t have to be alone anymore,” she proclaimed. She put her hand in Rapunzel’s hand. “I’ll be right here!”

Rapunzel turned her face up and raised her eyes. “Come to the party tonight!” she said. “You have to come!”

“Is it formal?” Anna asked.

“Yes, but I’ll sneak you in!” Rapunzel declared. “Wear what you always wear, because I have an idea.”

They stayed together for the rest of the day, as often hand-in-hand as not. Rapunzel had to return home at teatime, but she made a pact with Anna that they would meet at the stairs to the mansion garden. Rapunzel left the little boat for Anna to row across after the tide came in. “The tide will be late,” she said, “and it will be dark out. No one will see you. I’ll be waiting and watching for you.”

o

True to Rapunzel’s word, the little boat was tied up in its usual place when Anna went out near midnight to find it. She had to sneak out of the cottage. That turned out to be easily done, even easier than leaving Arendelle castle to explore the town back home.

Though Rapunzel had told her to dress the same as always, Anna had taken care to braid her hair nicely in two braids. She carried her shoes so that they wouldn’t get pulled into the beachside mud. Upon reaching the boat, she realized that she didn’t want to arrive empty handed, so she spent a few minutes collecting a bouquet of the purple flowers that grew along the shore.

She rowed across, periodically looking over her shoulder toward the manor. The grand house shone with light from every window. Soon, Anna could hear the music, the sweet notes of someone singing and the breezy, romantic sighing of a concertina. In the night, the house seemed to have bloomed into life, bright as a happy memory, like a stage when the curtain rises.

Rapunzel was there, running out of the glow in the garden and down into the dark passage of the stairway, reaching the dock just as Anna pulled the oars for the last and the row boat bumped into the stone. Rapunzel took the rope and pulled it through the iron ring. 

Anna started to put on her shoes. She stopped when Rapunzel exclaimed over the state of Anna’s muddy feet.

“But this is perfect,” she praised. “Did you bring wildflowers? How did you guess?” she asked. Her face was alight with excitement.

“What did I guess?” Anna asked.

“For the beggar girl disguise. Flowers are perfect! You can bring them in to sell to the guests.” Rapunzel took Anna’s hand and led her up to the garden. She took a bundle of cloth out of a hiding place behind the honeysuckle trellis. “Here’s a skirt, and tie this kerchief over your hair.”

The cloth of the skirt was thin, but the colors were bright, and the weaving in the kerchief was finer than any ordinary citizen would have. Rapunzel had said that she wasn’t allowed to mix with the villagers. Anna wondered if Rapunzel had ever seen a real poor person who begged for alms. That had been a shock to Anna, her first time after the castle gates opened, when she went into town. 

Rapunzel bounced in place while Anna put on the clothes. As soon as Anna knotted the scarf, the blonde girl took her by the arm and nearly dragged her past the glass garden doors.

o


End file.
